The complicated truth is that the Internet’s dangers are entwined with its pleasures, the allure of instant fame, the illusion of contact with masses of people. Nerve is the first movie to capture all that, and the result is a successful and memorable thriller.

Ultimately, while Gleason can be tough to watch, it has a strong message about the value of relationships and how to spend a life doing meaningful work against great odds.

Phantom Boy has a cute, comic-book vibe to it, a visually pleasing style and a fast pace. It’s fun, for sure.

The character motivations are weak, and the story is poorly structured. But its camera work, possibly intended to distract audiences from the movie’s flaws, only compounds its problems. It distances the audience and makes Jason Bourne a chore to sit through.

You can’t make a raunchy comedy and a sentimental paean to motherhood at the same time. You have to choose either one or the other. Raunchiness or sincerity. Try to do both, and you end up with a flailing, unfunny wreck, like the mix of contradictory and self-defeating impulses that we find here.

Engaging to watch partly because of the three young stars’ personalities — despite a few adolescent squabbles, they remain likable sorts.

The Ice Age screenwriters seem to be making up the rules as they go along, distracted by tired side plots to give the other characters a reason to exist in the film.

Lights Out presents actual characters that are interesting, that have rough edges, that act like real people, not victims in waiting.

With Star Trek Beyond, the rebooted “Star Trek” franchise that features the original crew of the Enterprise, settles into routine sequel territory. This isn’t terrible news, and it may have been inevitable, but it’s something of a letdown all at the same.

In essence, the film is a series of reflections, but fortunately for us, many of them are thought-provoking.

It’s a nice movie, and perfectly watchable — yet it’s hard to escape the sense that it should have been more.

A John Hughes-inspired comedy-drama — think “The Breakfast Club” set in rural Korea — starring a group of teenagers coming to terms with the passionate feelings and issues that evolve with impending adulthood.

It wonderfully explains elements of life with autism, offering a primer for the uninitiated, while profiling a family that was rewarded for its willingness to approach an obstacle with patience and love.

Based on “Umimachi Diary,” a best-selling graphic novel by Akimi Yoshida, Our Little Sister might be Kore-eda’s best film yet. It is certainly one of the best films of 2016.

To put it bluntly, Wiig and McCarthy are funny, but Kate McKinnon and Leslie Jones aren’t. McKinnon, in particular, is shockingly out of place, and she helps drag down the movie.

There have been many movies about cops working undercover, but The Infiltrator is different. It shows the difficulty of it, the almost-second-by-second stress involved in having to be yourself without being yourself, and having to seem relaxed without ever relaxing. It’s possible to get nervous just thinking about this movie.

The film’s thoroughness is a virtue or a problem, depending on one’s point of view.

This film is always pleasant to watch. It shows us that life has little detours, all the way to the end.

From the movie’s first minute, viewers will know they’re in the hands of a sure-footed storyteller.

Life in remote parts of New Zealand must forge hardy souls, judging from the characters in Hunt for the Wilderpeople.

Laughs are laughs, whether you know some of the punch lines ahead of time or not. And The Secret Life of Pets has plenty of laughs.

Comedy is getting more and more nasty and more and more funny. But it’s hard to imagine any movie more nasty-funny than Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates.

The movie becomes inventive in new ways and even cheery. It’s a true delight.

There’s not a lot of nuance or sense in the third “Purge” movie. But it still manages to coast on a combination of self-awareness, crowd-pleasing carnage and a plot that ties perfectly into current events.

For almost an hour, it keeps us off balance. But once we find that balance, the movie seems to coast.

At the end of the day, Wiener-Dog seems to be saying that life is mundane, then you die. It’s not the stuff of Hallmark cards, but Solondz has a way of making it palatable.

It serves as a great introduction to an important artist who was ahead of his time.

In the end, what we have here is a Tarzan movie made by people who don’t understand the appeal of Tarzan. He’s about joy and abandon and the fantasy of living in harmony with creation. He’s not about the struggle in the Congo.

The sequel is even more silly, and much less fun.

The narratively challenged film seems conflicted: It critiques our obsession with models and beauty and style, even as it obsesses about those very same things. There is a lot of flash, but little substance.

An absorbing, multilayered story about the search for a French girl who goes missing with her Muslim boyfriend, starts in a very un-French way: with cowboys, horses, a Marlboro Man-like billboard and country-and-western music.

Therapy for a Vampire has nothing to say. It just has stuff happening, none of it repulsive and all of it performed by competent actors, but that’s just not enough.

It’s oddly worth seeing.

The Shallows is a very earnest woman-versus-shark film. It delivers the requisite thrills, including a surprisingly satisfying resolution. The heroine is capable; and the writers, who trap her on a rock for half the film, find ways to make her situation seem interesting. But the most important parts, the ones involving the shark, don’t feel genuine.

Free State of Jones is an extraordinarily ambitious film, and for that reason, it’s not perfect.

Dying to Know: Ram Dass and Timothy Leary is a love story, but not in a physical sense; instead, the love here thrives in the spiritual realm, an intimacy that makes this biographical documentary quite appealing.

There’s no denying that this imaginative puzzler has moments you won’t soon forget.

This beautifully shot film (kudos to cinematographer Paul Yee) could have easily been an incoherent mess, but Holmer keeps her lyrical movie under control at all times.

It’s a master class with a director who profoundly loves the movies, and, in his best work, has shown dazzling skill at making them.

It’s a strength, not a weakness, of Jacquot’s that he makes movies about people. The ideas can take care of themselves.

It’s straightforward, it’s pretty funny and it stars two good actors who seem to be trying really hard to leave audiences satisfied.

The sequel is filled with crowd-pleasing action, adventure and characters — sometimes too many characters. But it rises above its crowded narrative with an intense emotional core, taking a protagonist whose affliction had been played mostly for comedy, and exploring the emptiness and loneliness of her plight.

It’s a taut erotic thriller with the obligatory plot twists and a surprise ending that isn’t all that much of a surprise because Careful What You Wish For is the kind of taut erotic thriller that comes with a surprise ending.

Jessica Tuck gives an emotionally raw performance as Morgan’s mother, and Amanda Plummer’s turn as a trailer park resident sheds more light on Jordan than all the other scenes combined.

The aerial cinematography is breathtaking: We can feel the fragility of the planet, but also its power to heal — if only we give it a chance.

Despite its name, Puerto Ricans in Paris is less a fish-out-of-water comedy than a mild buddy-cop trifle: good natured and sometimes charming, but not enough for its thin premise to approach the magnifique.

Your enjoyment of the movie will depend on whether you can suspend your disbelief — and confusion — and let the magic of misdirection wash over you.

This isn’t just a good horror film. It’s a good film, which just happens to fall in the horror genre.

The dialogue is so earnest that its lack of humor becomes a source of humor in itself. The acting is so primal that you’ll swear a porn sequence is about to break out.

For those interested in this rich period in American literature, it’s a treat.

Deceptively unadorned. In its simplicity, it digs for complex feelings and ideas — and is particularly timely, considering current political winds and Paris’ announcement of its first refugee camp.

The movie makes a point, but it doesn’t build on it. And so the movie becomes as dull and depressing for us as it must be for the central character.

A wannabe weepie about a woman diagnosed with breast cancer, is Spain’s equivalent of a Lifetime movie, but it’s often lifeless, even with a decent performance by Penélope Cruz.

The fight climax and very interesting resolution cap off an exhilarating two hours of entertainment — and suggest a sequel to come. Hope there is one.

There are isolated moments of humor, and even charm. The visual effects are at times outstanding. But these positives are overwhelmed by the uninspired whole.

Presenting Princess Shaw looks and feels like a DIY project, which is fine because the documentary is really a hymn to self-reliance — although bolstered with a modest amount of plain old luck.

Me Before You is just a little better than it had to be. It’s not so much better that it escapes being what it is, a sort-of romance, liberally sprinkled with moments of corniness and emotional dishonesty. But ultimately, when it matters, it’s truthful — about the people depicted, and who they are, and what they face.

“Popstar” has more going for it than outrageousness, though it certainly has that. It has genuine outrage, a good-humored but clear-eyed take on today’s pop culture as a morass of corruption, idiocy and relentless self-promotion.

There’s also a lightness in the tone that yet allows for real emotion and impressive performances. Maggie’s Plan doesn’t quite transcend the limits of the romantic comedy genre, but it pushes at them.

It’s not a sin to tell a one-sided story, Hoover seems to be arguing, when there is no other side.

If you see Alice Through the Looking Glass, prepare to lean forward in your seat just to stay awake.

Love & Friendship looks splendid. If the costumes by Eimer Ni Mhaoldomhnaigh (“Cavalry”) were any more beautiful, they’d be too beautiful.

If you can live with its blemishes, The Lobster is a bracing experience.

That’s all it is, a little bit funny.

The film is a visual feast that combines interviews with vintage footage and reenactments danced in retro clubs, on railroad trusses and in magnificent theaters.

Angourie Rice, who plays Gosling’s intelligent and highly moral 12-year-old, deserves a special mention. The character is an unexpected presence that adds dimension to the story, and Rice plays her beautifully.

A Bigger Splash takes four characters with strong needs, drops them into a single location and invites us to watch what happens. It’s strange how compelling that can be.

This is the best disappointing movie you will see all year.

Who can resist a good horse story? Simply and directly made, Dark Horse is a rousing documentary.

It’s not for kids, however; though not rated, it has some nudity and violence that would veer into R territory.

Neither resting on formula nor audience goodwill, the “X-Men” series is going deeper and getting better as it goes along.

In a way it’s just another well-made thriller, but there are things here — currents captured, ideas frozen in time — that might make it more interesting as the years pass. For the time being, it’s good entertainment and deserves to be seen now.

The lively setting helps, but the main attration here is the familiar story, which has been around forever and yet never gets old.

So there’s talent on view here, but in service of a questionable proposition, with the whole thing tiptoeing toward the exploitative. It would be nice to see Mascaro try his hand at less volatile material.

L’Attesa — also known as “The Wait” — is atmospheric and moody, serious and full of portent; and if it weren’t so good, it would probably be unbearable.

Robert Downey Jr. gets to remind everybody that before this blockbuster turn he was actually a serious actor and may still be again. Stark’s frustration at the rigidity and short-sightedness of his confreres and his anguish at where it all leads are vivid and felt.

A remarkable treat. It contains information about the writer heretofore unknown, and though it’s a dramatic feature and not a documentary, it claims to tell the truth, without embellishment. Even better, it was written by someone who saw the events depicted firsthand.

Writer-director Lorene Scafaria based the movie on her own mother, and the clothes that Sarandon wears in the film actually belong to Scafaria’s mother. They fit Sarandon well, and so does the role.

Math buffs will appreciate the inclusion of a brief and witty anecdote they may already know involving Ramanujan and the number 1,729. Well done.

The overall aura is kind of ... welcoming. It’s impossible to take seriously, but easy to take.

It gives fans what they want, while also working most of the time as pulse-pounding escapism. Even though he has almost nothing to do with the actual movie, the spirit of a “Speed”-era Keanu Reeves is present throughout.

It’s competently made but boring — and desperate.

A powerful cinematic essay.

This kind of psychological mystery, with its suggestion of fugue states, needs to work by hints and whispers, but Pali Road has pretty low expectations of its audience. It ought to be light on its feet, but it lumbers.

10 stories are just way too many. Had producers cut it down to, say, the five most promising stories and fleshed them out a bit, the results might have been better. Instead, it feels just as you might be sucked into a story, it’s over.

The cinematography and direction are particularly compelling; the complicated sequences on the tight sets must have forced camera operators to play cinematic Twister in impossibly small corners.

Shannon is worth seeing, and so is Spacey — hunched over, doing a funny impression of Nixon’s voice and body language. But this time the actors are better than the material.

A Hologram for the King has great energy, and also a languorous, lived-in quality.

Joachim Trier is a Norwegian filmmaker who made a strong debut in 2011, with his film, “Oslo, August 31.” Louder Than Bombs is his first English-language effort, and it’s disappointing.

Delirious, over-the-top, gorgeous to look at and with comic timing delivered at a machine-gun pace, Spain’s My Big Night is not only the fastest-moving film of the year so far this side of “Hardcore Henry,” but one of the most entertaining as well.

A resoundingly unlovable movie that almost resists being watched.

The director’s skill pushes what could have been the same old song into a likable testament to the saving powers of young love and rock ’n’ roll.

Colorful and visually pleasing, although there is nothing surprising in the rather predictable story.

A funny movie, but also a serious movie, and — who knows? — maybe an important one.

It’s a preening piece of work, aiming to flatter and please, while masquerading as something hard-hitting and daring. And because of all that, it’s a bore.

Criminal depicts a compelling situation, made rich and entertaining through its extreme characters.

This may be Favreau’s best achievement — taking a beloved film guided by Walt Disney himself and crafting something distinct and memorable.

Jacob Bernstein’s documentary about his mother, Nora Ephron, is unbearably funny for much of the way, and then it is sad, but bearably so because Everything Is Copy is about one woman’s realization that some things in life are more than material for her writing.